The Pain of Grief
by SiaCatGirl
Summary: During a dangerous case, Lucy is seriously wounded and put in hospital. Alfendi goes to pay her a visit. Rated T for safety.


**Well, hello there, people! How are you doing?**

**So, what you see below is my first Layton Brothers fanfic, full of angst and such. I wanted to write something angsty for quite a while, so I let out all of my imagination into words, and I think I went a bit overboard...**

**Help.**

**Is it too long? Are characters OOC? Please read and leave a comment. Reviews are my sunshine. =)**

**I don't own Layton Brothers: Mystery Room**

**Also, the song used for the fic is from a game called "Dark Angels: Masquerade of Shadows".**

**And... yeah, stupid titles are stupid. If you have better ideas for it, please let me know.**

**Sia later! ~ SiaCatGirl (geddit? Sia ~~ see ya. Came up with it myself =P)**

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><p>Dark grey clouds seemed to completely engulf the afternoon sky above London. Not a single ray of sunlight was able to shine through this thick blanket. Cold, moisturized air enveloped the city in its chilling embrace. Harsh gusts of the late autumn wind blew from the seas, making leaves audibly rustle underfoot. People shivered from the cool weather as they pulled up the collars of their coats to keep themselves warm. Nobody wanted to catch a cold in such a day, after all.<p>

But Alfendi Layton could care less.

The most famous inspector in Scotland Yard was walking quietly along the street, hands in his pockets, head down. He paid no attention to the wind tangled in his soft purple hair. The air flew from his thin lips in small white puffs. Red and white sneakers slightly creaked as they made contact with the concrete pathway with each new step. Golden eyes were staring off into nothingness, with no expression visible on the Prof's face. He was barely keeping his attention to the road as he was slowly walking forward.

His destination? A hospital.

Getting permission to leave the work earlier is one heck of an ordeal, but the Commissioner was kind enough to let Al go, especially since there were no new cases for him in the Mystery Room today, surprisingly, and all the previous ones were already closed.

After all, the inspector had a fair reason.

And due to that reason Alfendi, having reached the hospital by now, was sitting patiently - or rather, slightly impatiently - near the reception desk, waiting for a nurse to come and escort him to one of the wards. Even though he's been here before, many times, and has learned the route by heart, the rules, unfortunately, did not allow him to go there on his own, only accompanied by a nurse. The radio on the aforementioned desk was playing the latest song in the pop-music industry, titled "Masquerade of Shadows" and sung by a duo named "Dark Angels".

_Your dread of the night consumes you…_

_When the golden beams vanish gently_

_And the silence of midnight descends_

_Full of solitude, anguish and absinth_

Al closed his eyes and let the lyrics flow through his head like a quiet little river. Strangely enough, it depicted the broken condition of his soul rather closely. Filled with loneliness, despair and fear. Fear that his worst doubts may one day become true. Doubts that haven't left his heart ever since that day.

That dreadful day when the world seemed to shatter around him…

_Your thoughts and emotions are swamped by the gloom_

_But yelling out loud can't change the doom_

_Just wait for the sunrise to come back again_

_To drive away darkness, sorrow and pain_

_To save you from nightmares' land_

_Like your mother's tender hand…_

'Wait for the sunrise… Easier said than done.'

_Impenetrable darkness drives you mad_

_Your fear of darkness makes you flee_

_But you can't avoid the nightmares' hive_

_That has filled up you empty life_

That was true, and Alfendi couldn't deny it anymore. The darkness inside him wouldn't let go. His heart bleeding from various emotions trapped inside it wouldn't let go. He tried to forget it, to push it aside by burying himself in work, spending his free time among the noisy life of London streets or doing anything that would help him get distracted from the never-ending anguish. But it didn't work. Even the slightest thing would bring the painful memories back, he couldn't help it. And everything would start all over again.

_You awake each dawn in a cold sweat, shaking_

_To damn the day for its transience and sorrow_

_Bright light and city noise - these are the friends you desire_

_To shorten the night, to conceal, to inspire_

If only he could do anything about it…

Finally, he heard faint footsteps coming his way. Must be a nurse, the Prof assumed. And he was right. The woman, slightly plump, with her dark brown hair put away into a neat bun, approached him with a clipboard in her hands.

"You must be Alfendi Layton," she said with her toneless voice and a hint of German accent.

"Yes, that's me," Al replied, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Good," she noted, looking at the sheet of paper in her clipboard. "Follow me."

'Like I have another choice,' Potty Prof sneered in the back of Placid Prof's mind. He simply paid no attention to it and obediently followed the nurse. The closer they were getting to the ward, the stronger everything inside him was twisting and shrinking, and not just because of not eating anything since morning.

After a few minutes, which seemed like a few hours, they finally reached their destination - the ward number B62. On its door was a tablet, with the patient's name written in neat cursive.

Patient:_ Lucy Baker_

Alfendi felt his heart sink to the stomach. Partly because of seeing the name of his assistant written on the door, and partly because of the strong smell of medicine hanging in the air. It gave off a slight nostalgic feeling. For he himself was lying in one of those wards some four months ago.

It was a very dangerous case, with a merciless criminal on the loose. At the time Al didn't remember much about it, but he remembered that the criminal had taken Lucy hostage, forcing him and everyone else at the Yard to follow his "little game", with the Detective Constable's life at stake. The "game" required solving a number of murders committed by his hand, and the reward for each solved one would be a riddled hint, which, combined with many others, would reveal his hideout. And, for an unknown reason, that criminal seemed to know their every single move, like he was secretly spying on them. Eventually, the Prof came to a conclusion that there was a traitor among them.

With the help from Hilda and her Interpol connections, the Scotland Yard team was finally able to locate the place where the criminal was hiding. Of course, Placid Prof was hesitant about going when Hilda asked, but with a little persuasion from his other side and the fact that both of them wanted to save Lucy no less than anyone else, he agreed with a heavy heart.

The course of events from when he arrived at the scene to when he woke up in hospital goes blurry in his memory. When he was checked out two weeks after awakening, Al could only remember entering the abandoned building as his hot-headed persona with a pistol in his hands and a few Interpol agents behind him, discovering that one of his fellow detectives, Blaine Dartwright, was the dirty double-crosser he suspected to be among the investigating team, how that scoundrel was holding Lucy by the neck with a gun pointed at her temple and how scared she was when she was able to escape Blaine's grip and hide behind his back. He remembered being shot in the left shoulder, being carried to the exit by Lucy…

His memory trailed off from here. No matter how hard Al tried, the only things coming up were Lucy's extremely muffled voice, being suddenly pushed to the ground and a very loud sound…

Like a gunshot…

Then there was darkness.

Needless to say, Alfendi was very upset with Lucy not visiting him during his time in hospital. He was worried for her condition as well. After all, he did hear something like a gunshot. She could be badly hurt. But no one would tell him a word about his assistant. Not Florence, not Sniffer, not Dustin, nobody. Not even the Commissioner. And to him, especially Potty Prof, it seemed really suspicious. Eventually, after giving up on trying to get the information regarding the Detective Constable out of his colleagues, he decided to take the matter into his own hands. Well, Potty Prof, that is.

He was more than glad to find out that Lucy was checked into the same hospital as he was a while ago. He was more than eager to pay her a visit, even though he looked absolutely calm. He was more than excited to see his assistant again as a nurse was leading him to her ward.

But once he finally stepped inside…

The world seemed to shatter into pieces.

_No…_

_It… It can't be…_

_…Can it?_

Al couldn't believe his own eyes. Lucy Baker, his bright and a bit reckless assistant with a huge vat of optimism, was lying motionlessly in the bed, hooked up to a few IVs, an oxygen mask and a heartbeat machine, her face sickly pale and scarlet eyes closed. The nurse rather emotionlessly explained him everything as he looked at the scene in front of him in sheer shock. He barely heard her words as he was trying to understand what could happen to Lucy. Is that why nobody told him about her? Sure, such news is pretty hard to bear, but still…

"Gunshot wound to the left side."

Once those words reached Alfendi's ears, he understood. Understood what happened.

Everything fell into place…

That loud sound… It was indeed a gunshot. Either Blaine or the criminal must've fired it.

They were aiming to his heart.

But Lucy saw it. She saw what was going to happen.

She couldn't prevent the bullet from being fired. But there was something else she could do.

And that was to save her mentor.

_Prof, no!_

*BANG*

The bullet pierced her chest inches away from her heart. The result was a severe haemorrhage. The doctors were fighting hard to prevent her from leaving this world forever.

And they succeeded.

But the poor girl was now lying in coma, her soul standing on a line thinner than a thread. A line that separated her from death. The doctors were rather skeptical about her ever waking up. Her wound and blood loss were pretty severe, after all.

But Prof never gave up hope.

Even now, three months after his shocking discovery, he believed he would see Lucy awake someday, hear her calling him "Prof" again in her cheerful voice with a Yorkshire accent, feel her joy shining from her very core.

He believed the doctors' predictions won't become true.

The nurse opened the door and said: "You have 10 minutes." Alfendi silently walked into the ward, with Potty Prof crossly rolling his eyes in the back of his mind.

The scene before him was different from three months ago. Only two IVs were left, and Lucy no longer needed the oxygen mask. Unfortunately, her overall condition remained the same. The heartbeat machine was beeping loudly in rhythm with her heart. Her chest was rising and falling almost unnoticeably. Her face was as sickly pale as before.

Al sat on a chair beside her. Despite the girl's calm, peaceful expression, the only things preventing him from seeing her as a corpse were the machine's beeping and her faint breathing. He wanted it to be a simple case of cold, that she was simply asleep, and would wake up the next day, healthy as ever.

…If only it was true.

His heart wrung every time from seeing Lucy like this. So still, so pale, so… lifeless. Alfendi never thought he would miss her chirpy attitude, her wide smiles, tender scarlet gazes whenever he praised her skills, bright laugh, even her sometimes reckless behavior and wild theories. He never thought he would miss his assistant that much. The very thought of losing her made his heart bleed. He never felt so weak before, so pathetic, so… useless.

He sat beside her, not saying a word. Only the heartbeat machine's beeping filled the room.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Lucy… I couldn't… keep you safe…" Prof said, barely moving his lips as he gently placed her hand into his and grief welled up inside him once again. Because he promised. He promised Lucy would return back, alive and unharmed. He promised Florence, Sniffer, Hilda, Commissioner, everyone. Himself included.

And he couldn't keep his word.

What's worse, there was nothing he could do about it.

Alfendi understood it better than anyone.

His own uselessness was driving him mad. Trying to swallow his rage, the inspector clenched his fists as his hair was becoming more disheveled and taking a crimson hue. Unfortunately, the real Alfendi Layton was horrible at keeping his anger under control. Not being able to push his emotions away, he let them out by slamming the wall with all the power held in his fist.

"Goddammit!"

In an attempt to calm down he covered his face with his palm. Needless to say, it didn't help much.

"Why… Why you, Lucy… Why did it have to be you, of all people?.."

Pain seared through his left shoulder as the sound of a gunshot echoed in his head. But it felt like the pain was coming from a lower area, a few inches away from the wound. That area was holding many feelings.

Sadness.

Anger.

Desperation.

Anguish.

Grief.

…Guilt.

Guilt for not being able to help her in the slightest. And for letting his pride get the best of him.

All those feelings were ripping Alfendi's soul from the inside. He couldn't run away from them, couldn't hide, couldn't keep them at bay. Sooner or later they would take control over him once again. Last time it happened, he ended up smashing his teacup against the floor of the Mystery Room right behind Dustin's back. It scared the jitters out of the poor cleaner alright.

With some considerable will power, Prof was able to swallow some of his emotions and look at Lucy's face again. Never in his life did Potty Prof feel so broken, but of course he wouldn't admit it to anyone. He was too proud for it.

His heart sunk to his throat. All those months ago, he believed he was going to win that battle, like he always did. Alfendi believed he would triumphantly catch that pathetic criminal and return Lucy back safe and sound. He was sure of it.

But now…

Well yes, they did win: the criminal and Blaine were put behind bars for their crimes.

But it shouldn't have been this way, he thought. It shouldn't have nearly cost his assistant her life!

A victory… Yet it felt like defeat.

With this, another feeling arose inside him, one he hadn't felt in a long time.

Regret.

Al knew it wasn't his fault Lucy ended up in the same condition as him after the Forbodium Castle incident five years ago, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help feeling this way.

Just like he couldn't help letting a single tear fall from his eyes onto his hand.

Alfendi hadn't cried since he went to junior school, where he was hit on the head with a basketball during a PE lesson.

He hated it. Hated feeling this way. Hated feeling like some soft mess. But he couldn't stop it.

The only thing he could do was to prevent others from seeing it. From seeing him like this.

So… broken.

Regaining what felt somewhat close to composure, he looked at his assistant gently and stroke her pale cheeks with caress, a trait one usually wouldn't see in Potty Prof. In the last three months this fragile-looking girl became the dearest person to Alfendi Layton, to both of his personalities. With her now on a brink between life and death, he finally came to realise how much she meant to him. Every single day, he wished she would regain consciousness again. He wished to hold her close to him, to his heart, and never let go again.

"Please, wake up soon," he said in a low voice, putting his hand on her faintly beating heart. "The Mystery Room doesn't feel the same without you."

To this day, Prof wondered why he kept coming to the Mystery Room every godforsaken day. It's not like he really wanted to go there or anything. It felt deserted without Lucy's bubbly nature bringing life and light to the dull walls of their workplace. It was quiet. So quiet, Potty Prof thought the silence was ripping his eardrums apart.

The same kind of silence was now hanging in this hospital room, with the machine's beeping being the only source of sound. Alfendi looked away and exhaled heavily. His 10 minutes here were coming to an end. He had to say goodbye to her for the time being. No matter how much it hurt.

"They say the chances are slim…" Al spoke again, quietly, almost in a whisper, as he leaned closer to Lucy. He felt his heart throbbing against his aching chest. "But for as long as there is even the slightest chance, I won't give up hope."

His forehead was almost touching hers.

"Ever."

With these words, Alfendi gently pressed his lips onto Lucy's as his hair returned back to its soft purple hue. Touching her forehead with his, he let three little words escape from his mouth in a quiet whisper.

_"I love you."_

Then he forced himself to get up and leave.

But as he left the room and the nurse closed its door behind him, Al silently prayed for one thing only.

That the doctors' predictions won't ever become true.

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><p><strong>Okay, so here I place my notes so they wouldn't distract you from the story. =)<strong>

**1) I know absolutely nothing about British hospitals, so please don't go too harsh on me about it**

**2) **Yes, I made Blaine Dartwright an evil traitor, deal with it =P****

****3) **The story takes place a year after the main game, so don't be surprised about the Forbodium incident happening 5 years ago and not 4******

******...That's it, I think. Feel free to fave and leave a comment. ******


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